New Perspective
by HiM'e'iTSu
Summary: Stiles had never expected that making fun of a fortune teller at a fair could lead to such crazy consequences. Seriously. These things were for teenage comedies only, not for real life. Sterek. Sexswap(Stiles being turned into a girl) AU - no Hale fire


**A/N:** This story is inspired by an amazing fanvideo The Other Side by maichan-vids. Link on youtube: /watch?v=OceCOzy4VGY&lc=IyX_WdKF-eih5CYc-WiJeWarKD4CUJeGXupmVdCM34Q&noredi rect=1

Also I have to say thank you to **samsamtastic**, who was my beta-reader for this story. She helped me greatly. Also she is the one who pointed out that this story is a sexswap(not a genderswap) as I originally tagged it, since through the whole story Stiles indentifies himself as a male. I thought it is worth mentioning for a second time.

I tried to stay as close to the video as I could, but had to accomodate it to my story.

The name of the story came from a Panic! At The Disco song - another inspiration for me.

**Warning:** Sexswap. Stiles is turned into a girl, but he stil identifies himself as a male.

**AU** - no Hale fire.

* * *

It was hard to breathe. Panic coming up rapidly, engulfing his whole body, threatening to overflow and turn into a string of incoherent words. He took a deep breath, then another. And one more. And then one more breath but it still didn't help. His hands were trembling, his whole body humming with nervous energy. He wanted to run away, far away, where he wouldn't have to face anyone ever again. He wanted to at least tear his eyes from the ones of the man standing before him. But even that he couldn't manage. Those mesmerizing eyes, dark in the dim lighting of a school swimming pool, were staring right back at him and any moment now the shock and incomprehension in them were about to turn into anger. And then, then Stiles would actually have to run. Because Derek Hale wouldn't be happy with this turn of events.

_A week before that…_

Stiles' hands fumbled with the phone as he hastily pulled up a number and pushed the call button. There was no response and he bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited for Scott to pick up.

It was ridiculous. Things like this, he glanced down at himself for a moment before hastily looking away, did not happen in real life. Those things were just a funny set up for a teenage comedy, but _they did not happen in real life_.

A dial tone rang in his ear as his best friend failed to pick up the phone when Stiles needed to speak to him the most.

"Come on, buddy, come on." Stiles muttered nervously and then instantly shut his mouth, unnerved by a higher tone of his own voice. _Dad's gonna freak out_, he thought absent-mindedly. Great, one more problem to add to the list.

But Scott still wasn't picking up and Stiles threw his phone onto the bed in a fit of frustration. Well, it seemed he'd have to face the problem on his own. For now. He took a deep breath, which did nothing to calm his nerves, and headed for the bathroom where he'd be able to have a good look at himself in the mirror.

Stiles's eyes roved over his form, cataloguing every smallest detail.

Eyes, still brown. Good, he nodded to himself. That part didn't change. It wasn't much of a consolation since they were the only things that didn't change. Except for the moles. He got a vague sense that the moles stayed right where they were last night, before all the madness unfolded. His appearance though, despite the bone structure staying somewhat familiar had become more elegant, softer…more feminine. Which would have been surprising if not overshadowed by the fact that Stiles _was a girl_ now.

The upturn of his nose was still present but the nose itself was narrower and probably smaller. Actually rather pretty, if Stiles was ready admit to it. He wasn't. His mouth was still bow shaped and maybe a little too big for the size of his face but, hey, a big mouth was good for kissing, right? Not that he would know, but that just seemed logical. And not that Stiles was thinking about kissing anyone in such a form. So he should probably back up a step there.

This thing, _being a girl_, was a problem and not a solution to a very distinctive, very attractive and very male problem which didn't spare him a first glance, no use even mentioning second, since the start of the school year. So what if now that he was a girl he could just flash his boobs to Derek Hale, just the way Erica did it daily, and hope for a positive response? That was just a stray idea that did not warrant actually been used in real life. It didn't mat-

_His boobs._ A thought hammered back into his mind suddenly.

Cautiously, Stiles looked down. Not much could be seen under the cover of a grey tee he wore to bed, but there were two rather prominent elevations. Oh, wow. Without thinking, Stiles put his hand to one of them. That's very disrespectful, a thought flashed through his mind in a voice that sounded disturbingly like Lydia's , before been unceremoniously thrown away by a second wave of the realization that he had breasts now. Interesting. Also there was too much empty space in his pants. But Stiles wasn't going to explore that idea, he had too much shock for a day as it was.

He squeezed his right boob once, considering he was entitled some mild experimenting, before letting go and stepping away from the mirror in order to have a better look at his body. It was skinny, he decided after lifting up the shirt and glancing at the flat stomach. A thin waist, hips not full but definitely more pronounced then he was used to. So his lanky frame was just transferred to a female body. Okay. He could deal with that.

All in all, Stiles decided, after a thorough examination, it was a reasonably attractive body.

He might actually have a shot with…

No one. He didn't need to attract anyone's attention, Stiles told himself resolutely. He did not.

Now, he would probably need proper clothes. And he actually had an idea where to get them from.

* * *

It was two hours later when Scott finally checked his phone, ten minutes after that he was barging into Stiles' room only to find it empty.

"Stiles?" He called out, confused. "You said it was urgent." Scott said to the room on the whole.

"In here!" Stiles's voice rang around the house and Scott followed the sound to the Sheriff's bedroom.

"Are you okay? Your voice is weird…" He trailed away upon entering the room.

"And that's an understatement of the century." A girl standing in the middle of the room snapped in reply.

Scott didn't know her but there was something distinctively familiar in her face.

"And before you say anything, although that won't be soon as I see from the way your mouth is hanging open, yes, it's me, Stiles. Yes, I am a girl. Now help me pick a dress." And the girl held up two dresses for his inspection, both looked old but well-kept. She kept looking from one to the other with evaluation in her light brown eyes.

"Stiles?" Scott asked tentatively.

"Yes, Stiles." The girl insisted. "Look at me, man." The girl bounced lightly, agitated.

Scott got a closer look at her, taking in the familiar eyes, nose, lifted eyebrows; her face set in an expression of impatience. She looked so much like his best friend it was unnerving.

"Scott, buddy, I'd really like to see some light of comprehension in your eyes." The girl muttered. _Stiles_ muttered.

"Okay," Scott nodded. "Now can we leave your dad's room? Being here kind of freaks me out."

"My dad's room freaks you out, seriously? Not the fact that I'm a freaking girl?" Stiles exclaimed. It lacked any threatening element in usual Stiles manner. Only now it was even less so because his voice got squeaky at the end.

"Yeah, that too." Scott placated him, moving slowly towards the corridor and then to his friend's room. Stiles followed, still holding two dresses in both hands. "So how did this happen exactly?"

"Well…" Stiles trailed off thoughtfully as he laid down the clothes on the bed and stared at them. He glanced at Scott somewhat sheepishly. "You remember yesterday…"

Scott groaned before his friend could even finish. "I knew I should have dragged you away from that witch at the fair!"

"Oh come on, it was just a girl in a crazy dress! My best friend is a werewolf I thought I could distinguish and actual fortune teller from a fraud. And I only said that she can't trick people into believing her 'premonitions'." Stiles exclaimed defensively. "I had no idea she'd turn out to be an actual witch."

"You shouldn't have made fun of her anyway."

"Should have told me that yesterday." Stiles muttered under his breath before turning to Scott. "Now, which dress do you like more?"

Scott blinked at him, at a loss for words. "I guess the…right one?"

Stiles nodded, all business, and picked up the dress on the right. It was cream colored with a pattern of pale roses on it, fabric so light and probably soft to the touch. "Where did you get it?"

"It's my mom's." Stiles replied quietly. "Some of her clothes are still in the back of dad's closet."

The atmosphere changed, tension giving way to melancholy. Stiles ran his fingers over the fabric in his hands, cold and unresponsive but holding so many memories, good and bad, and buried hope and now a new beginning.

"Hope it will fit me," Stiles said jokingly, but there wasn't any sincere joy in his voice.

"It'd be better than what you have on now." Scott kept up with a meaningless joke.

Stiles smiled. "Only one way to find out."

Scott barely managed to turn away in time before Stiles clutched the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his head. There was a rustling of clothes as the pajama pants joined it on the floor.

"So what are we going to do? I assume you'd want to change back?"

"Well, yeah. Obviously. I mean, all the government records say that I'm a guy. The girl me doesn't exist, officially." Scott could hear the wince in Stiles's voice. "I wouldn't want to live all my life with fake ID's and all that."

"That's not what I meant," Scott retorted. "But anyway…"

"I suppose," Stiles paused. "Hey, can you get those buttons for me?"

Scott turned, hoping Stiles was decent enough, and obediently buttoned up the dress at the back.

"I suppose I got to find that girl. She'd know how to lift the curse."

"So you think it's a curse?"

"Doesn't look like a blessing from my point of view." Stiles replied as he turned around showing off the dress proudly. "How do I look?"

"Fine, I guess." Scott shrugged. He wasn't about to evaluate the level of his best friend's attractiveness.

Stiles squinted at him, silent for a moment, before he turned away and headed for the door.

"Stiles," Scott called to him. He shifted nervously on his feet, hesitating. "Are you going out like this? I mean…your hair is a mess."

"Wow, and I thought I was turned into a girl." Stiles rolled his eyes but went to grab and comb nonetheless. Running it through thick long hair had almost no effect whatsoever, but he did find a spare shoelace on the nightstand and tied his hair into a ponytail. Or at least in a parody of one.

"Come on. We've got a witch to find."

* * *

Surprisingly they didn't need to do much searching. It was Sunday morning so the fair was still there, getting ready for another busy evening. A booth, bright red with symbols that looked like they might have been Celtic painted in black on the sides and bright fuchsia bows serving as decorations. Now that Stiles saw it in the light of day it looked even more ridiculous.

"Does the writing actually mean anything?" Scott whispered to him furiously but Stiles merely shrugged as an answer while his eyes scanned the crowd.

Stiles caught sight of a red umbrella first and then the figure holding it turned and he could see her. A blonde in a long red dress with a flower in her hair. She caught sight of them and a smirk stretched her pink painted lips. She didn't try to escape, instead meeting them half way.

"Hello." Her eyes looked over Stiles's female body, amusement shining in blue eyes.

"Yeah, good morning to you too." Stiles stepped into her personal space pushing a finger in her face. "Now change me back."

The girl swatted his hand away carelessly, stepping away from him. "Sorry, I can't."

"So you admit that you are the one who did this." He waved his hands, indicating at his body, mostly making an accent on the chest area. "You turned me into a girl."

"Should have been respectful to the witch." The girl sing-songed. She wasn't looking at them, instead choosing to inspect her nails, but a smirk on her lips told that she was enjoying this conversation.

"Your booth looks ridiculous!"

"Stiles." Scott stepped between Stiles and the witch, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. "Listen, we are sorry." He said calmly. "My friend was too high on sugar yesterday, he didn't mean to make fun of you."

The witch's eyes fixed on Scott. "You said you are no stranger to supernatural."

"Not really," Scott stammered. He glanced back at Stiles, warning with his eyes to keep quiet.

"Well then, I'm sure you can figure out how to deal with this." A smirk turned into a smile. It wasn't malicious, probably air-headed and that scared Stiles even more. She winked. "Don't worry, I am a seer after all. You'll be fine." And with that the witch blew Stiles a kiss and strutted away.

"What?! Wait!" When Stiles made a move to follow her, the girl turned on her heels abruptly.

"I should probably mention that you only have until full moon to lift the curse. Or else," she even made a pause for dramatic effort. "You'll stay like that forever."

"No! Don't just leave like that!" Stiles cried in despair.

Scott stepped up to block his path, putting both hands on Stiles' delicate shoulders. "People are looking at us. Let's just go. She won't tell us anything."

Stiles' eyes focused on him, the words finally breaking through the anxiety and fear.

"Okay, okay…I'll figure something out."

* * *

"Oh my god."

Stiles's head snapped up to see Lydia and Allison making their way up to him.

"I know, right? I'm a girl."

"What the holy hell is this?" Lydia exclaimed, completely disregarding his words. "Are those sneakers two size bigger than your feet?"

"Probably three," Stiles replied distractedly. It was hard not to answer with the demanding way Lydia was used to phrase her questions. "They are mine after all."

"This is a disaster." She frowned. "Is there shoelace in your hair?"

"The dress is nice." Allison reassured him.

"Thanks." Stiles brightened before remembering he had bigger problems then his fails in wardrobe choices. Not that he had much choice to begin with.

After talking to the witch Stiles and Scott went separate ways. His best friend assured him that he'd discuss the problem with Deaton, but Stiles needed to get some proper clothes since it seemed he'd be stuck in that form for a while. No more than a week though, Stiles hoped.

"Listen, I need some functional clothes. Nothing more."

Lydia circled him, watching Stiles's female figure with rapt attention. There used to be the time when Stile would have given anything for her to look at him like that, but now it only made him uncomfortable.

"Stop fidgeting." Lydia barked as she made a full circle. "You have good figure. I'm thinking, you'd need a pair of jeans…"

"Yes, great. That's good."

"A couple of cute tops. A jacket, definitely. And I'm thinking evening dress."

"Lydia, I don't need so many clothes."

She lifted her eyebrows and her eyes spelled out 'Yes, you do' as her lips pressed into a thin line. Stiles heaved a deep sigh and gave up.

They made him try so many clothes his head was spinning. Jeans and then trousers, pleated skirts, mini skirts, even a plaid skirt. Blouses and vests, a couple dozens of 'cute tops'. And then dresses, so many different kinds of dresses.

Also underwear. Female underwear. Stiles shuddered the moment Lydia presented him with that and, even though bras felt terribly restricting and uncomfortable, lacy panties were kind of nice. But he wasn't going to admit to that out loud.

The scariest thing – somewhere after the first hour Stiles got into it. Even though he still couldn't match a skirt with a top for shit, he enjoyed trying them on and seeing in the mirror a pretty stylish girl staring right back at him. A pretty girl that was him.

"Try this one." Lydia handed him a hanger with a dark grey dress as well as a pair of high heeled shoes.

Stiles got entangled in all the folds and straps of the dress but managed to put it on right in the end. The high heeled shoes were scary but, as a brave guy he was, he ventured and stuck his foot into them. He stumbled, lost his balance and caught himself on a curtain. When Stiles was sure he was steady on his feet, he stepped out to the audience.

Allison let out a shocked gasp and smiled so widely Stiles couldn't help but mirror her grin. Lydia hummed approvingly, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Stiles turned to the mirror.

"Wow…"

At that moment it finally dawned on him that this was him now. This…this pretty girl. That was him. Her. Her.

Stiles was a she. "Wow…" He was a very hot 'she'.

"We'll take the dress." Lydia smirked and Stiles could only nod dumbly.

"What next?"

"Next we do something with that hair."

Somehow 'do something with that hair' also included doing some weird things to his nails, toe nails, his poor legs and many many other scary things. They did get to the hair part in the end. By that time Stiles was exhausted and falling asleep in his chair while a chatty woman worked her magic on his hairstyle under the watchful eye of Lydia Martin.

It was hard to comprehend that something like this was actually happening. Half an hour ago he got a text from Scott, saying that Deaton couldn't provide an immediate solution to the problem but promised to work on it. It wasn't as reassuring as Scott made it to be, but Stiles was ready to rely on his own research to deal with the problem.

"Voilà!" A peppy voice screamed into his ear as the woman turned his chair to face the mirror – Lydia insisted on all the dramatics.

For the first second Stiles just stared. But then his mouth twisted into an involuntary smile. He did look good. Long hair was cut to frame the pretty face nicely and styled simply but tastefully.

Allison was lavishing his new look with compliments and even Lydia said some approving words.

He did look good. Very good actually.

_She _looked good. This girl he now was. _She._

* * *

The girls dragged Stiles to a couple more shops after that. It was disconcerting but Stile embraced his new personality pretty quickly. Her new personality. It was easier to identify himself as a female when he was running around in a dress and on high heels.

He felt good, in a way. Attractive in a way Stiles had never felt. Guys were sending him interested glances as he slipped passed them to racks with colorful clothes, but Stiles didn't care for them. Not at that moment at least.

Too engrossed in a difficult art of trying to find a jacket to match a skirt Lydia had chosen for him earlier, Stiles didn't pay much attention when he noticed a movement in his peripheral vision.

"Hi." A low velvety voice said and Stiles almost jumped out of his skin. The voice was just as familiar as the leather jacket he saw when he turned to face the man speaking

Stiles's gaze snapped upwards and he saw a familiar face smiling down at him charmingly. Derek Hale was flirting with him. No, not flirting. Just talking. But that smile surely looked seductive. And was there any other reason for such a handsome guy to come up to someone like Stiles in a clothes store. But then again, Stiles wasn't his geeky self anymore, he was a hot brunette in a fitting dress.

"Hey," Stiles breathed out.

They stuck on that, gazing at each other. Stiles, too shocked to produce any coherent sentence, Derek just smiling instead of forming any actual words. Had he not been terrified, Stiles might have frowned in confusion. As it was he just stood there, dumbly staring at his crush of the last couple years; Derek Hale was not supposed to be talking to him. Derek Hale had barely noticed his presence in the past, if noticed at all – Stiles was not completely sure on that but he surely liked to keep some hope.

"I'm Derek."

"Um…" And here Stiles stumbled over his words for an entirely different reason. His gaze slipped to the side, over Derek's shoulder and an idea struck him. "Macy. My name's Macy." A stupid idea, he realized a moment later.

"That's why you shop at Macy's?" Derek asked with a lift of his eyebrow, dry but humorous.

"Yeah…" It might have sounded like a question. A little bit. Or a lot. Who knew? Definitely not Stiles. "And…I've got to go." He added quickly and rushed past Derek out of the store. He stumbled on his way out, damn high heels almost impossible to run on but managed to put some respectable distance between himself and the guy before the major freak out struck.

Allison caught up with him, grabbing his elbow to both steady him and slow down. "What happened to have you rushing like this?" She whispered to him.

"Ran into Derek Hale." He whispered back furiously.

"So what?"

"He wanted to talk to me."

Allison sent him an incredulous glance as he made an effort to elaborate. "He never talks to me. The way I am. Was. Going to be again. Just as soon as I figure out how to deal with this curse. Because obviously the girl who cursed me thinks it all is so much fun and I should enjoy resolving this mystery. I mean I do like puzzles but not when there is my future at stake. Don't get me wrong, being a girl could be nice and, let's face it I'm damn hot, finally, but it'd be really cool-"

"Stiles." Allison's furious whisper stopped him mid-rant.

"Sorry," he muttered lowering his eyes. "Just…it freaked me out, okay?"

"Why?" She asked gently.

"Well…why would he do that?" He looked at her from under his long bangs. "What if he asks me out?"

Allison smiled softly, kindly. "Then you'll just say no and go on with your research on the curse."

Stiles nodded, but internally wondered what his chances were if Derek Hale actually asked him out. Stiles wasn't sure he'd be able to refuse.

* * *

Scott's jaw hit the floor the moment he saw Stiles after the 'make-over', as Lydia proudly called it. Stiles didn't know much about such things, he was left using the one terminology that was presented to him.

He couldn't help but make a little twirl, showing off, and let out a delighted laugh as his best friend stood there gaping. Allison laughed as well as she walked up to Scott and, before kissing him hello asked, "Should I be jealous of Stiles now?"

Scott squeaked and hastened to reassure his girlfriend that she was the only one for him for all eternity, but Allison only laughed harder.

"I enjoy your appreciation of my wonderful job with Stiles's transformation into a proud and beautiful woman, but can we move on to a more important subject?" Lydia said. When her similarly confused friends turned to face her, she rolled her eyes. "What is our plan of action concerning The Problem?"

"Deaton promised to call if he finds anything." It was Scott who replied first.

"I'll do my own research." Stiles quickly amended.

Lydia heaved a deep sigh. "We are on a tight schedule here. I'll go through the Bestiary. Just in case. Chances are thin, but maybe there is something about witches."

"I can ask my dad?" Allison offered.

"While I dread the mortification of your dad finding out about my condition," Stiles said as he booted up his laptop, "I will be grateful for any help."

"Great," Lydia concluded. "Now there is only one problem left."

"Stiles!" At the sound of a new voice ringing through the house they all turned sharply to the doorway of Stiles's room. The door was open but no one was standing there. By the sound of it the Sheriff had first went to the kitchen.

"Stiles! I'm home!"

Stiles looked at his friends in panic, hoping for some kind of help. Scott was as hopeless as his friend; he looked like he was about to jump out of the window and stealthy make his way for the woods. Allison looked more collected. Lydia seemed bored with the situation already.

"Just go and explain everything to him." She said, as if it was that easy. "He knows a lot about supernatural already, I'm sure he'll take it fine."

* * *

Stiles wasn't sure that what had transpired between him and his dad could be classified as 'fine' but it wasn't a disaster he expected either. The Sheriff only said. "Well, I hope you'll be able to fix it." Then he hesitated and, maintaining an intense eye contact, added. "But if you won't…I want you to know that I love you no matter what, kid."

Stiles nodded and hugged him. It felt unusual, this hug; Stiles was suddenly taller than his dad, because of the high heels he was wearing, and the Sheriff was more careful, as if worried that he might hurt this fragile girl. But it was good. His dad was as okay with this as anyone could ever be.

There was one moment, as Stiles already stepped away, ready to dive headfirst into research, when the Sheriff called out his name, stopping his son midway to the stairs. In his eyes, there were emotions Stiles didn't want to dissect. "You look a lot like your mom."

Stiles swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. "Thank you." He mumbled before dashing up the stairs to the safety of his own room.

Scott, Lydia and Allison had left right before his talk with the Sheriff, so he had a moment to himself to reign in his emotions.

"Okay," he said to himself softly. "I can do this." And Stiles started his usual routine of looking for information.

* * *

On Monday morning Stiles was woken up by a phone call. He'd spent most of the night on the Internet trying to separate the total crap from information that could actually be useful; in the end he fall asleep in a chair with his head nestled comfortably on the keyboard.

Stiles started when the phone rang and scrambled to answer. It was Scott. Of course it was Scott. The best friend on a mission to destroy his life.

"What the hell?" Stiles grumbled into the receiver. "Did someone die? If not I refuse to talk to you so early in the morning."

"Are you not up already?" Scott asked. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for school?"

"School? Dude, I doubt teachers ignore the students this much not to be able to remember that Stiles Stilinski isn't supposed to be a girl."

"Yeah, but…"

Stiles could see his best friend's reluctance all the way from his room. "What?"

"You can't really spend all your time researching. You'll go nuts."

"Uh-huh."

"And Deaton is working on it."

"Uh-huh."

"And you kinda promised to help me on my control issues." Scott lowered his voice. "Before the full moon. You know I'm not as good as Derek."

"Yeah, trust me I know that better than anyone." Stiles snorted. "And you are too embarrassed to ask Allison; even if she'd be better at it than I am."

There was a weak "Yeah" from the other end.

Stiles sighed and relented.

Seeing how he didn't have much time, he ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth, already thinking of all the looks Lydia had helpfully picked up for him.

* * *

School was…weird. Not the usual Stilinki kind of weird, where people ignored him and a small percent mocked him from time to time. People were staring. And it was hard enough to walk on high heels as it was but with everyone inspecting him from every angle Stiles had to keep a hold on himself as not to get distracted and fall over himself right in the middle of the corridor. What was the most unnerving though was the smile with which Harris had eyed him. Stiles darted away from the man's sight the moment their eyes locked. This was way too bizarre for his sleep deprived mind.

The first two lessons passed without any major incidents, none of the teachers bothering to ask who the new girl was. Scott kept sending him these ridiculous apologetic looks that Stiles had trouble resisting under normal circumstances, but was absolutely unable to stand now. He thought it might have something to do with female hormones, being more prone to all the cuteness and all that.

It was after lunch when his careful peace had started crumbling. Stiles was on his way out of the canteen, every second guy in school following him with their eyes, when he couldn't stand it anymore. It was both terrifying and exciting. He needed a moment to himself, which in Stiles's language translated to rushing into fist available classroom and screaming like crazy. He was joy and worry mixed in one as he whooped happily and made a little dance to a music only he could hear.

"What are you so happy about?" A curious voice inquired and for a second Stiles only squeezed his eyes tighter, not wanting to face the man it belonged to.

"This is so embarrassing." He muttered to himself, forgetting about enhanced werewolf hearing until he heard a chuckle.

"It's not that bad." Derek assured him, getting up from his place behind one of the desks and putting away a book he had been reading.

"What are you even doing here?" Stiles asked accusingly.

"You say it as if I was the one who intruded upon your quiet studying to squeal and make a victory dance." Derek's impressive eyebrows rose up on his forehead and there was mirth dancing in his beautiful eyes.

"It wasn't a victory dance." Stiles defended.

"So you are not denying the squealing?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Stiles lifted his head high, pretending to be as confident as he didn't actually feel. Playing confidence was much easier than really having it.

Derek smirked. "Whatever you say."

"Don't play smart with me."

"I have no idea what you are trying to say with that."

Stiles huffed. "It means stop smirking so obnoxiously, for one."

Derek's smirked stretched into a full smile, making his raggedy handsome face friendlier. "So what all that was about?" He waved his hand at Stiles's figure and then made a small bouncing gesture. It looked ridiculous on a guy like him, but also, in a way, cute. Wow, Stiles thought, I'm so far gone with my crush on this guy. This ridiculously attractive, adorable guy.

Distracted by those thoughts Stiles floundered for an answer. "Happy to survive my first day here." That sounded good, believable.

"Only half a day have passed."

"Well, half a day then." Stiles amended. "Still an achievement."

"Oh well…" Derek's smile brightened. "How about we ditch the rest half a day of school?"

"What?" Stiles started and backed into the door in his surprise. "You? With me?" He pointed at Derek, then at himself, but as he pocked a finger at his own chest Derek's eyes followed it and Stiles squeaked in indignation. "My eyes are up here, you jerk!"

It was Derek's turn to startle and take a step back in sudden surprise. "I wasn't…" He stumbled over his own words as a flush quickly spread over his cheeks. Stiles would have rejoiced in having caused such a reaction had he not been scandalized to such an extent.

"I'm sorry." Derek apologized heartily. "I really didn't mean to look…there. You were just gesticulating so widely and…It's hard not to follow your hands." He explained and it sounded so truthful that Stiles felt inclined to believe him. "They are very pretty."

"Huh?"

"Your hands," Derek clarified as he stepped closer. "They are very beautiful."

"Dude, that's lame." Was on the tip of Stile's tongue but the look in the other man's eyes stopped him. Derek was trying to flatter him, that much was obvious, but he wasn't lying either.

When Derek's hand reached for his Stiles made a move step back but he was pressed closely to the door already and he had no means of escape without actually plastering himself to the guy in order to tug at the door handle.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Will you run away with me?" Derek asked jokingly, returning them to the original topic of the conversation.

"No." Stiles replied with force. "Of course, no."

"Of course?" Derek pouted while he entwined their fingers together.

"Yes." His tone was resolute – absolute opposite of how he actually felt. "Now, just…let me…" Stiles pushed on Derek's chest delicately, not giving his hands a chance to wander over the hard muscle, and Derek moved away without any resistance. Which was good. Yes, good. Stiles just had to keep telling himself that. Without further comments he slipped out of the door and hurried to his next class, vowing to be more careful and make an effort to actively avoid Derek since that moment.

* * *

Stile's plans on helping Scott keep self-control until the full moon were working pretty well. If only Scott wasn't left bruised and battered from yet another ingenious idea it would have been perfect. So far the young werewolf was confident that he'd be able to participate in the game by the end on the week without getting into rage and mauling his fellow players.

Breaking the curse, however, wasn't going as good as they had hoped. Every free moment Stiles dedicated to researching but, unfortunately, Internet wasn't of much help concerning such issues. So far no trustworthy source had come up but Stiles didn't despair for long; it simply wasn't his style. When everything crumbled he just threw himself into work with renewed dedication.

Lydia wasn't of much help either, her sources just as useless as any other.

Deaton managed to come up with a theory and they even went so far as to try it out, Stiles volunteering to drink a vile tasting potion, but nothing good came out of it. The man did mention that it was a stretch and the witch magic was unpredictable and hard to understand, but he wasn't going to give up.

Stiles wasn't despairing either but Scott could see the whole thing weighting down on his best friend.

It always threw Scott off, to look at the petite girl and know that it was his best friend, the guy who managed to get them both in trouble since they were little. Appearances had changed but on the inside it was still the same crazy over-active kid.

Stiles had once woken him up with a phone call in a middle of the night, shout-whispering into the receiver one question only. "Do I smell the same?"

"What?" Scott turned in the warm cocoon of his blankets, blinking up at the ceiling in incomprehension.

"My smell. Is it still the same? Do all the werewolves realize that it's me?" Came a furious whisper down the line.

Scott frowned, as he tried to recall how did it feel, being around Stiles that day. "No." He finally answered. "No you smell different. I mean, there is something familiar…but more like a person who spends a lot of time with you, not actually you."

"Good." Stiles muttered in reply.

"Probably have something to do with female pheromones. Them being different from male and all…" Scott's words turned into a yawn in the end and, realizing there was no crisis to avert, he drifted off back to sleep.

Every day Stiles dashed about the school in a flurry of bright skirts and long brown hair, solving other peoples' problems while still thinking about his. The full moon was nearing and all the young werewolves were growing antsy. The Hale pack, the ones who accepted Scott as one of their own, taught him tricks of self-control but it was Stiles who knew him best and could come up with a personal approach. Scott, loathe as he was to distract Stiles from solving the curse, needed his help. Desperately so.

Lacrosse practice that day had been brutal; Scott felt on edge every second of it. The anger – a usual part of such a violent game – resurfaced more quickly than normally and was on a verge of spilling out and changing him, starting from the inside, making his thoughts animalistic and threatening him to shift into a form more fitting his mental state. It was only thanks to Stiles' help, and his ridiculous training, that Scott managed to keep cool; he had hope that by the date of the game he'd be fully in control of his inner wolf.

* * *

The next two days of the week went just almost the same way. Stiles ran around school on high heels, always making sure that his skirt didn't ride up too high, just as Lydia taught him. Turned out, girls had to think about a lot of stuff in addition to normal problems. Make up, for once – no smudging his mascara, reapplying lips gloss. Always making sure his hair wasn't out of place. Not bending down while wearing a mini skirt. _Never_ bending down while wearing mini skirt, both Lydia and Allison had been very insistent on that. Plus not leaning too forward while wearing a v-neck. And the girls didn't need to know about his early ideas about flashing his cleavage in front of Derek Hale on purpose.

Even though no scolding from Lydia could make Stiles use language more appropriate for a 'young lady', he tried to reduce the usage of words 'dude' and 'man' when addressing other guys. He also had to work on his walk, making steps smaller. Unexpectedly, but swinging his hips while walking came easy and Stiles enjoyed the attention he got while strutting down the school hallways. It was great to be noticed, to be wanted so openly.

Weirdly but the attention he always longed for, attention from one person he always liked, Stiles resolved to avoid. There was no telling what his reaction would be if Derek Hale invaded his personal space again. So evasion it was.

"Hey! Macy!"

It didn't work well. Stiles ignored a voice calling his stupid fake name and hurried out of the school. Out of the door in seconds he breathed out a sigh of relief only to squeak in surprise as a hand grabbed his shoulder. Stiles twitched and made a move to get away from the gentle but strong hold only to lose his footing and almost fall down the steps. He flailed his hands and squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for the fall.

"We should stop meeting in such ridiculous situations." A voice muttered somewhere above and Stiles felt the low rumble reverberate through Derek's chest, which he was tightly pressed to, strong arms holding him around the waist. The only thought in his mind – Wow, girl boners are not so obvious. How convenient.

And only then did he stumble away from the guy holding him. "Huh…"

"You okay? You almost fell down the stairs." Figured Derek would look just as sexy up close as from afar. Unfortunately during their previous encounter Stiles didn't have a mind to appreciate it. Now though…Now they were standing on the stairs in front of the school with everyone staring at them. Just wonderful. Great timing as always.

"You were following me." Stiles accused instead of giving a sane reply.

"Just wanted to talk to you." Derek shrugged.

"Oh well, that's not the reason to almost get me killed."

"I'm sorry." There was sincerity in his beautiful eyes, as well as a sparkle of mischief. "Let me make it up to you."

"Yeah, sure…" Stiles replied turning away to leave. He made it down the stairs before he felt Derek's presence at his side again.

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Why am I not throwing myself to your feet and proclaiming my undying devotion?" Stiles glanced sidelong at the guy only to see a deep frown transform his features.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"You seem saying that a lot."

"It's only with you." Derek sighed, exasperated. "Listen, what I'm trying to say…" He had to keep up with Stiles's fast pace. "Is that I know that you like me. I feel it."

Stiles translated it to 'I smell the attraction from a mile off by my mind-blowing werewolf senses'. But of course, a girl Macy wasn't supposed to know about Hale family's secret.

"And I am a good guy." Derek continued; he wanted to say something else but Stiles couldn't resist commenting.

"Well you definitely do not lack self-confidence."

It was probably a good thing that the werewolf decided to ignore that comment. Instead he asked bluntly. "Then what's the problem?"

It was at that point that Stiles had to stop in his tracks. Not because he wanted to continue this conversation, but because he realized that he was heading to his jeep and there was no way he could explain driving that car to Derek Hale; because yes, by that point the whole school, hell probably the whole town, knew who the blue jeep belonged to.

Derek used this as a chance to step around Stiles to stand in front of him. Despite how gruff he looked, there was open earnest in his eyes, lovely shade of blue in the light of the sun. "What is the problem?"

"Haven't you thought that I might already have a boyfriend?" Stiles tried for the simplest lie.

"I don't think you do."

"How so?"

"I just," Derek waved his hand in a frustrated manner. He couldn't express himself and Stiles truly couldn't understand the guy; he only guessed that it could have something to do with werewolf senses as well. Could werewolves smell single people? Unattached? Nah, that's plain stupid, Stiles decided in the end. Derek probably smelled the desperation Stiles must reek of. Yeah, that sounded more like the truth.

"You don't even know me." Stiles tried for another tactic, only too late realizing that in a sense it contradicted his previous line of defense. Derek caught on to that quickly.

"But I really want to get to know you."

Stiles glared at him.

"Go out with me tomorrow. And if you don't enjoy yourself I will leave you alone."

It might be the easiest way to get rid of the attention. Go out with Derek and then simply tell him not to bother Stiles ever again. No, Macy. Not to bother Macy ever again.

"Fine." Stiles gave up and it had absolutely nothing to do with a pleading expression on Derek's handsome face.

* * *

Half the night he spent in research. Now that the most trashy websites were discarded after first days of search, some useful information finally came up, facts about witches that he labeled 'Could be true' and 'Might actually work', but none of those gave him a clue how to deal with the curse put upon him. There was one thing though…one pattern that repeated through many stories about witches and their victims but Stiles wasn't impressed by the idea of a True Love's Kiss holding a power to dispel any evil witch magic. It sounded too Disney, a pretty fairy tale solution that was surely damned to fail in the real word.

That night Sties fell asleep with his head pillowed on a keyboard of his laptop.

Rudely awakened by his dad in the morning he rushed through the morning routine and grabbed the first dress he dragged out of the closet. Stiles regretted his decision half an hour later as he walked into Chemistry, trying to make steps as small as possible because with each one the tight short dress was riding up and revealing more and more of his legs. Some guy wolf-whistled as Stiles walked past (no pun intended since it wasn't Derek, Stiles subtly turned to check); he just hoped he could get to the classroom as soon as possible or maybe that the ground would just swallow him whole. Oh yes, plus, suddenly, walking became a problem. Half a day in high heels – and then nothing mattered but the terrible pain. Allison offered to give him her flats, but Stiles, having decided to go all the way through with this, refused. And, strangely, but heels – those devil's contraptions – gave him confidence in his attractiveness. It was crazy, but as Lydia once said, it was hard work to be a girl.

"Stiles," Lydia hissed at him the moment he sat down in class. "This is an evening dress. What were you thinking?"

"That if I am late Harris will castrate me?"

"Oh please," the girl rolled her eyes. "He likes you too much to do anything but scold you. Gently."

Stiles blanched at the idea and tried not to think about Harris being attracted to him; the idea was disgusting enough without a visual representation.

"Anyway, maybe I have a date tonight." Stiles contradicted forcefully, only too late realizing that he shouldn't have probably mentioned it.

Lydia narrowed her eyes at him, her expression contemplative. "You do?"

"What? No!" Stiles replied too loudly and too quickly for it not to be a blatant lie.

"With who?"

"No one." When it was obvious that he was only digging his own hole deeper with every word, Stiles sagged in his seat, defeated, and said quietly. "Derek asked me out. I tried to get out of it, but he wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Derek Hale…Hm…"

"What?"

"Nothing, just…" Lydia shrugged innocently. "Interesting. You do have a huge mancrush on him."

"Only now it's a girlcrush and he is interested in me." Stiles retorted. "I don't know what to do."

"Go with it." Lydia suggested confidently.

"Yeah? And what happens when he finally finds out who I am."

"You can worry about the outcome later."

Stiles laughed weakly and nervously and decided that he was done with this ridiculous conversation.

* * *

Derek had been waiting for him after school. Stiles had kind of hoped that the guy would forget about their date, but deep _deep_ inside on the very edge of his consciousness Stiles prayed that he didn't.

"Ready to go?" Derek asked as he opened the door of is Camaro so that Stiles could get in.

"Depends on where we are going. I'm certainly not dressed for a hike in the woods." Stiles retorted and his stupid nervous joke made Derek smile.

"Nothing of that sort." Derek promised. "Not today. I was thinking we could get something to eat and then see a movie. How does that sound?"

"Okay," Stiles shrugged looking out the window. Not meeting Derek's eyes seemed like a good tactic.

What he also decided was an amazing strategy was to act like himself. He didn't need to attract Derek, to seduce him, to infatuate him, to…Stiles stopped himself at that before every verb from romantic novels made an appearance in his head, each one bringing up some disturbing images along. The point was, Stiles didn't need Derek to like him and ask for another date, so it was fine to just be himself. An annoying chatty kid, who not every person can stand. Stiles always told Scott that he was special, an acquired taste – not for everyone. So, if Derek Hale couldn't stand Stiles's personal brand of crazy even contained in a body of a beautiful girl he wasn't worth Stiles's attention at all.

That decided, Stiles settled back into the leather seat of the Camaro more comfortably. "You have to turn left two blocks away from here."

"Why?"

"Because there is this one place, they make mean curly fries."

"Curly fries?" Derek frowned. "I had something less…junk food in mind."

"Nah," Stiles waved him away. "There is nothing better than curly fries."

If Derek was disgusted by the way Stiles ate, he didn't show it. Stiles was so used to people commenting on his eating habits, he stopped paying attention to them ages ago. This guy though, he ate his burger with the same vigor as Stiles devoured his fries and seemed content with the constant chatter that spewed from Stiles's mouth when it wasn't occupied by the food. Derek was mostly silent but he listened with attention that wasn't expected from him. He answered any question willingly and almost enthusiastically, but mostly let Stiles express himself and lead the conversation.

After that they went to the movies, Derek chivalrously suggesting to choose a sappy romantic comedy. Stiles was so tempted to actually make the poor guy watch it, but feared he wouldn't cope himself. So instead he waved the idea away easily and suggested a movie that seemed to have a lot of action and explosions in it. Derek glanced at him in surprise but smiled.

"Come on, who doesn't love a good action movie?" Stiles teased him. "Or a bad action movie. Sometimes the border between the two is so thin it's hard to tell. Obviously good visual effects seem to be the main attraction these days, but it's nice to have some good acting once in a while. And some handsome actors. Now that I consider it, I think I could forgive bad acting if the actor is hot."

And so Stiles ramble on until they got to their seats. He noticed Derek rolling his eyes a couple of times but there were no comments or accusations of talking too much, or casually off-handed requests to "shut the hell up already". One of his dates had actually said that to his face before angrily stomping away. Not Derek though, Derek looked like he was content with just listening to unending chatter; even after the movie had started and Stiles just couldn't resist making sarcastic comments about unsurprising plot twists. Derek only laughed quietly as not to disturb the other viewers, twenty minutes after the start the guy was joining Stiles's amused commentary; half hour in a hand landed on Stiles's shoulders. The embrace was light, giving Stiles an opportunity to shake it off if he so desired. The only problem – Stiles himself had no idea how he wanted to proceed in this situation. He was freaking out about it too long though, so his lack of protest was taken as consent and Derek's hand settled more firmly around his thin frame. It felt nice. They stayed like that for the rest of the movie, trading comments and sharing laughs occasionally.

Derek drove Stiles home in complete silence while Stiles was obsessing over a new problem. The date went…well. Good even. Unless Derek was that good at hiding his disgust over Stiles's daily behavior. Fortunately, or unfortunately Stiles knew Derek Hale well enough to realize that this wasn't a man who'd hide his displeasure with anything. Which brought him to the original point – their date was far from a disaster Stiles had originally anticipated. So what was going to happen next? Would Derek ask him for a second date? And if he did what would Stiles's reaction be?

"Are you okay?"

"What?" Stiles asked, slightly confused as he was lost in his own thoughts.

"You spaced out." Derek explained. "I was asking if everything was okay."

The car was not moving, Stiles noticed. And Derek was looking at him in concern. They had arrived to his house; the Sheriff had a night shift so at least he wasn't there to witness this little adventure of his son-turned-daughter.

"I'm fine," Stiles muttered, getting out of the car. He tugged at the hem of his dress absent-mindedly so it wouldn't sit so high on his thighs. Those form fitting stupid dresses had a tendency to get higher and higher as the day progressed.

"Are you sure?" Derek asked and only then did Stiles notice that the guy was standing right beside him.

"Yeah," Stiles replied weakly. "Fine." His voice was so quiet it was barely a whisper.

He knew this situation. The guy, tall, dark and handsome, standing so close, his blue eyes intense and focusing on one spot only. A girl, pretty and shy, glancing up at him from under long lashes and licking her lips unconsciously under his gaze. Stiles just had never imagined that he would be that girl. Or that he would be so utterly terrified of what should come next.

Derek moved, leaning in for a kiss, and Stiles darted aside, playing ignorance.

"Well, it's already late. We've got school tomorrow. I gotta go. Yeah, go. Into the house. Home. My home. Well, see you tomorrow." He blurted out and sprinted up the steps to the door and hid in the safety of his home. He didn't look at Derek once, dreading the confusion and disappointment on his handsome face.

That was a disaster. Total disaster, Stiles thought as he banged his head on the door. Why did he agree to this charade? He wasn't a girl, he was a guy; in a couple of days he'd get his body back and everything would be back to normal – Stiles would make sure of it. And Derek liked this _girl_. Stiles couldn't even remember a name he came up with for himself. Oh, yes, Macy – now he remembered Derek calling out to him enthusiastically. And it hurt. Because Derek didn't like Stiles; he barely knew Stiles, didn't care to get to know Stiles.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stiles banged his head on the door repeatedly.

* * *

Next day he woke up early and, after finishing his morning routine and choosing clothes for the day, dived into research. There was no word from Deaton yet, and well, no news was better than bad news so…

A phone call from Scott had brought him back to reality and Stiles rushed to school.

Tactic 'Avoid Derek At All Costs' was in action again and seemed to work better this time. At least until the school ended and Stiles was about to sneakily get to his car and drive to the veterinary clinic.

"Isn't it Stilinski's jeep?"

"W-What?" Stiles startled, Derek seemed happy to creep on him with unexpected conversation openers.

"This jeep. Stiles drives it."

"You know Stiles?" He couldn't resist asking.

Derek shrugged noncommittally. "A little. Do you?"

"Um…Of course. I'm driving his car, aren't I?" He laughed weakly. "We are sort of related."

"Sort of?"

"We are related." Stiles replied with more conviction. "Cousins. In fact. Did you want something?"

"I thought we could hang out. Spend some more time together."

"Sorry, I'm busy today." Stiles shot him down and promptly got into the jeep.

"Wait." Derek called out, leaning into the open window. "Did I do something wrong?"

He was so sincerely saddened by the idea that Stiles didn't have a heart to put all the blame on him. He shook his head. "I'm just really busy today."

"You've been avoiding me. And I thought that our date last night went well.

"It did! I mean, yeah it was fun. But I'm not sure this," he indicted at the empty space between them, "Is going to work."

"Why not?" Derek persisted.

"Please, don't…"

"Give me one more chance. Let me accompany you to the game."

"Lacrosse game this Friday? But I thought you hated lacrosse. You never go to these games."

"How do you know?"

"Stiles told me…" Well, if that wasn't the stupidest lie of the day.

"Why does Stiles," Derek didn't finish and shook his head, disregarding whatever thought came to him. "I will go to the game. With you."

"Do you find me attractive?" Stiles asked abruptly. That kind of question had never brought any good reaction in the past.

"Yes," Derek frowned, uncomprehending. "I think we had already established that."

"You like my appearance?"

"I'm not going to lie, that's what made me notice you first. It happens." Derek shrugged. "But I got to know you and I like you."

"I can't deal with this right now," Stiles muttered under his breath. From Derek he demanded. "Tell me what you like the most. In the way I look."

"Your eyes," the reply came without a moment of hesitation.

Stiles rolled his eyes at that. "That was so original, dude."

"No really. You have beautiful honey-colored eyes. It's such a warm color…"

Stiles squinted at him but relented. "Fine. Anything else?" Like my considerably big rack, or my tiny waist? He didn't add.

Derek gave him a soft smile. "Your moles."

And it was a hit right into the heart. Because, yes, Macy did have warm brown eyes and moles dotting her skin, but so did Stiles. And he knew that Derek wasn't against dating a guy – the whole school gossiped about his brief fling with Isaac Lahey. So what was wrong with Stiles Stilinski?

"I will come to the game." Derek returned to the original topic.

But I won't be playing this time, Stiles thought regretfully. "Whatever." Was his careless reply as he closed the window and left Derek Hale standing alone in the school parking lot.

Well, that went great.

* * *

This time Deaton did have a solution, but Stiles wasn't inclined to trust it.

"A kiss? Seriously?!" He flailed his arms vigorously.

"Not just any kiss," Deaton explained, not disturbed by the teen's raised voice.

"Yeah," Stiles threw his hands in the air almost hitting Scott in the face. "True Love's Kiss. Awesome. Now I just need to find my one and only, kiss them and see the fear on their face when I turn into a guy right before their eyes."

"There is no need for such dramatics." Deaton commented. "Let' not dive that deep into a fairy tale, shall we?"

"Oh is there way any deeper in this sh-"

"Stiles is just trying to say," Scott rose his voice over his best friend's. "That this seems a little…weird?"

"Weird is not a strong enough word for this."

Deaton started at them, all calm and collected as if he didn't even know the meaning of a word 'annoyed'. He waited until the friends calmed down and continued with the explanation. "Fairy tales are not that far from the truth. An ultimate weapon against the evil magic of witches _is_ love. In stories it's a one true love that gives salvation, but such thing is too rare in a real word. A kiss from a person you deeply romantically like should do the trick. Especially since from what you told me about that witch, she isn't very strong. And she meant this merely as a prank not a full blown curse."

"That's a great prank indeed." Stiles couldn't hold the sarcasm.

"The important question here is," and the man paused to turn a piercing look of his dark eyes at Stiles. "Do you have a person who can break this curse for you?"

Stiles gulped and turned away to avoid meeting eyes with anyone. He fidgeted, circling his arms around his middle, defensive. "That's…I…Maybe."

"Stiles." Scott called out to him gently.

"That's a very private question!" Stiles blurted out suddenly. "I'll deal with it." He added, finishing the conversation.

They didn't ask any more questions, but he could see that both Scott and Deaton were worried.

* * *

The ceiling in his room was so boring it was tragic. Or maybe Stiles had never got a hang of staring at it thoughtfully. He felt mostly stupid, pouting teenager refusing to look away in order to avoid the actual problem.

When he once said 'Can this whole situation get even more messed up?' he wasn't counting on getting a positive answer. Because suddenly it was all the more terrifying than it was in the beginning. Stiles was a girl. Okay, he had some time to get to terms with it. The curse should be lifted until the full moon, which was on Sunday, current day being Wednesday, or else he'd be stuck in this body for the rest of his life.

But was it such a bad thing? Maybe this was for the best? Maybe it was meant to happen? _This body…this body is so different_, Stiles thought_, but objectively speaking, me as a girl is more attractive than me as a guy. Just like that. It's that simple_.

He cringed up the ceiling, which did nothing in return. Unfortunately ceilings didn't have facial expressions. Or feeling to express. Lucky bastards.

_I am still my stupid self but in a different body, so what? I see only pros and no cons._

Was it really that simple?

Then why did he have doubts? Because being a girl Stiles still felt different from being a boy Stiles. It had changed his life in so many subtle ways and it was making him unhappy.

Stiles heaved a sigh and dragged his tired body out of bed. No way was he staying that way. Being a girl was fun, in some aspects, but Stiles was Stiles, an awkward guy who went unnoticed in school. Who had a goofy best friend, loved playing lacrosse even if he wasn't super good at it, who preferred his wardrobe to consist of tees with ridiculous prints and plaid shirts. He was who he was. And he wasn't going to change himself in order to be liked by more people. Even for a chance at a relationship with a guy he had been dreaming about.

So, he was going to break the curse. There wasn't any need to pretend like he didn't know who that special person was for him. At least not in the privacy of his own head.

But he could wait until their date on Friday. He could enjoy Derek's attention for one more day.

* * *

Tuesday went more smoothly than any day since Sties had been turned in a girl. As it appeared, when he wasn't going out of his way to avoid any trouble, trouble wasn't chasing him all the time.

During the day Lydia cornered him at his locker (no one seemed bothered that some girl was using a locker that belonged to Stiles Stilinski) to ask a load of intrusive questions.

"So how was your date with Derek Hale?"

"It's none of your business." He said stuffing books into the locker. "And it was the day before yesterday, why are you asking only now?"

"I can't be that bothered by your personal life." The girl waved him off. "So how was it? Is he good?"

"Good? Good at what?" He frowned as they strutted down the corridor. _Strutted_. Seriously, his life…

"What do you mean 'at what'? Did you at least kiss?"

"No we didn't. And don't look so scandalized. I'm…I'm not like that."

"Oh my god, you actually turned into girl, didn't you?" There was a teasing note to her mocking, so Stiles decided he wasn't going to tear her gorgeous hair out. And, as he was currently a girl, it would be totally justified. "Now think about this."

She stepped into his path, making Stiles stop and glare at her.

"Allison said that Scott informed me that you found a way to break the curse, so by the end of the week you'd be yourself. A boy. An awkward teenage virgin with no prospect of getting laid in the near future."

"Excuse me?!"

"But now…you have a hot guy running circles around you. And an amazing opportunity at experimenting."

"Experimenting?" He felt he wasn't going to like where this conversation was going.

"In sex, Stiles."

A book fell from his limp hands and he didn't notice in shock.

"You will never have an opportunity to experience sex as a girl, don't you think it might be fun?"

There was no answer to that. The overwhelming shock didn't even let him blush at the implication.

"It's just something for you to think about," Lydia shrugged, all innocence. "Really would be a shame to waste such an opportunity." That said, she stalked away, leaving Stiles staring dumbfounded as the sound her heels made faded away. It was too much for him to comprehend.

He never wanted to think about…that. Hey, Stiles was a crazy guy himself but there got to be some boundaries, right?

That thought in mind, he located Derek outside the school during lunch.

"Hey," he flopped on the ground beside him gracelessly.

"Hi." Derek smiled.

Staring at hands clasped in his lap Stiles said quietly. "I wanted to apologize. For yesterday. I guess that was rude."

"It's fine."

"No really, I'm sorry. And I'd love to go to the game with you."

"You don't have to…"

"I know," Stiles smiled at him. "I want to."

"That's good." Derek smiled back.

They spent the rest of lunch together and then Stiles caught up with Derek at the parking lot after school to get a ride home in that piece of art that Derek called his car.

* * *

Scott was nervous. Of course he was; despite all the hard work he put into his training there still was a chance of him wolfing out during the game.

"Come on, man. You'll be fine."

"Stiles, you shouldn't be here." Scott scowled at his friend.

"No one is here so early. When the other guys start arriving I'll leave. And by the way, you can start changing already, I'm not interested in ogling your manly physique."

When Scott made no move to get his lacrosse uniform, Stiles rolled his eyes and turned his back. "I'm not looking." He teased.

There was rustling of clothes behind him.

"So…" Scott started in a tone that didn't promise anything good. "Are you going to break the curse?"

"Yes," Stiles replied tersely.

"…When?"

"Soon." And that was the end of the conversation.

To break the curse meant to become himself again. That was good. In order to do that he had to kiss Derek. That wasn't the problem, as it turned out Derek was more than willing. Thinking that the girl was just shy, Derek had pecked Stiles on the cheek as a goodbye the day before. The problem was that Stiles was supposed to turn into a guy after the kiss. Or would it happen when he went to sleep, the way it had was when he turned into a girl? Deaton had explained that the curse needed some time to settle in, but breaking in would only take a moment.

So there was a high chance that Derek would…Derek would witness the whole process. He'd know that it was Stiles all along. There would be hatred and maybe disappointment. Eyes flashing blue and maybe Stiles would have enough time to run away until the werewolf would tear him to pieces.

So, yeah…hard choices.

Only one thing was obvious. It was going to hurt no matter what.

* * *

The game was in full swing. Allison and Lydia's shouting in support of their respective boyfriends was deafening and Stiles had to lean into Derek heavily to describe him what was happening on the field. Derek's hand wound around his waist and they were plastered close as they watched and cheered together. Stiles had never actually watched a game from the bleachers but it was better than he had thought, at least when he had someone to share all the observations and joy with. Derek was perfect, listening attentively, catching up fast and making his own comments as the game went on. His heightened senses allowed him to see better and he shared that knowledge with Stiles.

Stiles was having so much fun, it was a shame to leave in the middle. But he had a plan, however reckless it was.

He grabbed Derek's hand and dragged him away from the field, into the school.

"Why did we leave?" Derek asked.

"I just felt like having a walk," Stiles shrugged.

The school was dark and empty and they were wondering around while Stiles looked for a good place for a confession.

"You are crazy, aren't you?" Derek asked. He didn't protest to being dragged around.

"A little bit, yeah." Stiles grinned back at him. "Do you mind?"

"No, it's…I like it," Derek confessed.

A smile fell from Stile's lips, but he turned away so that the other wouldn't see it. He pushed heavy doors and stepped into a…

"Pool?"

"That's not where I was hoping to end up." Stiles confessed as he looked around the pool in the dark. "The school looks so different with the lights out."

"Or maybe you just don't have any sense of direction?" Derek teased, stepping closer to the water and tugging Stiles with him.

"I have an amazing sense of direction, thank you very much. I was distracted."

"Oh yeah, by what? Or should I say by who?"

"Haha, don't flatter yourself, big guy." Stiles smirked.

There was no clever retort to that. There was Derek, stepping up to him, settling his hands on Stiles's waist and leaning closer. Here it comes, Stiles thought and closed his eyes. He would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. So nervous he wasn't fully in control of his own movements; his arms jerked as he was trying to wound them around Derek's neck, and instead he flailed and took a step to keep balance, but his heels slipped on the tiled floor and the next moment he knew they both were falling into the water.

Derek was spluttering and laughing at the same time, his hands reaching for Stiles in case the girl couldn't swim. And Stiles caught his hand.

"Sorry. Sorry. Sorry." He couldn't stop repeating, embarrassed beyond belief. "So sorry."

"Don't worry, its fine." Derek reassured. "Crazy, remember?"

They got out of the pool and Stiles sneakily stole some clothes from the locker room to change into. Unfortunately the only closing he had found was a red sweatsuit, a small one that was too big for a female body, but luckily would fit just fine for his male self. What a coincidence, he thought while looking for something for Derek. There was nothing to fit the guy's larger frame.

"Turn away." Stiles said sternly and turned away himself while taking his top off. All that dirty stuff Lydia had put into his head earlier came to mind, but he shook it off. He changed quickly, desperately hoping that Derek was an honest man and wouldn't peak.

"Okay, done." Stiles announced and took off the shoes. They didn't go well with the sportswear.

Expression on Derek's face was devoid of any emotion and it was hard to tell if he had indulged his curiosity.

"Well, now I feel weird." Stiles admitted as he indicated his attire. "That's not exactly attractive."

"That's just clothes."

"Don't tell me I'd look better without them." His mouth worked much faster than his brain.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

"That…" Derek glanced away, composing his thoughts. "Clothes do not make what you are."

"And what about my face? My body?"

"What?"

"Does it make me who I am?" There was a dangerous edge to his voice.

Derek frowned. "I'm not sure what you are asking."

"Of course, you aren't." Stiles scoffed. "Sorry, than was unfair to you."

"What's truly bothering you?"

"It's…" Stiles breathed out, averting his eyes. His fingers grabbed the hems of his sleeves, those delicate female fingers with perfect manicure Lydia insisted on now cracked and smudged. This wasn't him, Stiles reminded himself. With all his courage put into one sentence he asked in a small voice. "What do you like in me the most?"

"Why are you so insecure?" Derek asked in return instead of answering. But when Stiles only glared he backtracked to give an actual answer. "Your energy." Derek said with a smile. "It's endless."

Stiles lifted his eyebrows inquiringly; it probably didn't work that good with his current hair style, bangs getting in the way.

"And your honesty." Derek continued. "Well, not exactly honesty. I mean, sincerity probably. How honest your reaction are, how you don't hide your attitude."

"Cool, I guess. Anything else?"

"A lot of things." Derek admitted. "But please, can you answer my question. What's wrong?"

"Oh, my heart is pounding like crazy." Stiles commented to himself, then glanced at Derek. "But you probably know that."

"What?"

"Okay, here it comes." Stiles took a deep breath and…and did absolutely nothing. "Shit, this is scarier than I thought."

He stepped away, pacing along the swimming pool a little in a vain attempt to calm at least his mind since his body was buzzing with nervous energy. "Fine. Fine." He muttered to himself.

"Macy?" Derek called, confused.

And that was it. Stiles snapped.

"What is-?"

Derek didn't get to finish, the petite girl had launched herself at him with unexpected force. They almost tumbled down again but this time Derek managed to right himself and keep the girl on her feet and then concentrate on what was happening.

Stiles glued his mouth to Derek's with ferocity, what he lacked in skill he tried to make up in eagerness as he pressed their lips together. After a moment of hesitation Derek reciprocated the kiss, taking control to give it finesse and introduce his partner to some skill.

This time Stiles clutched his hands on Derek's shoulders successfully, hanging on for dear life as a new world was opened to him. It felt amazing to be kissed like that, with true intensity and passion. Derek kissed like he did everything else, never going halfway, always giving his best, putting his soul and instincts into it. Stiles was breathing heavily, and there was one more ridiculous distracting thought that his own breasts didn't let him get as close to Derek as he wanted. There was heat running through him, but it wasn't magic making things right in his body, this heat was natural – lust. Derek's hands were gripping his waist, sending want cruising through Stiles' veins. It was different sensation that he was used to, but it felt good no matter what.

"Derek," he panted when they separated for a second. But Derek was kissing him again and Stiles didn't want to break this amazing moment with his rambling explanation about what was going to happen next. He was quite sure though, that he and Derek had a completely different visions for the near future.

"Derek," Stiles panted the name again and then the pain came. "Shit."

He twisted in Derek's arms, letting out a moan that was so far from pleased anyone even without keen werewolf senses would have noticed. Derek was calling his name, worried, as he steadied Stiles on his feet.

Deaton didn't say anything about pain – an involuntary thought flashed in his mind as he desperately tried to push Derek away, not wanting to change right in his arms.

"Please, please, let me go." He pleaded and Derek stepped away cautiously. He let out a low growl as Stiles collapsed to the floor, turning his head away and hiding his face in the crook of his arm. A change was rippling through his body and his skin itched; it hurt the most where it altered his internal organs, but the pain was like a wave, crushing on quickly and then passing to attack another part of him. It stopped as abruptly as it started.

Stiles was lying on the cold tiled floor of the pool, still wet to the bone, weak and pathetic, unable to stop whimpers that fell from his lips.

It was over, he told himself again and again. I should be happy, that thought was harder to drill into his aching head. Derek saw it all. He knows, and that was not a reassuring idea either.

It was hard to breathe. Panic coming up rapidly, engulfing his whole body, threatening to overflow and turn into a string of incoherent words. He took a deep breath, then another. And one more. And then one more breath but it still didn't help.

His hands were trembling, as he weakly pushed his body, still humming with nervous energy, off the floor. Never wanting to turn around, to see the expression on Derek's face, he kept his eyes down while gathering himself and dragging his exhausted body up. There was more strength in his hands now, muscles built up from many lacrosse trainings. Long hair was not falling into his eyes. That was a good side. The bad…Stiles finally lifted his head to look at Derek. There were times in the past when Stiles had been scared of Derek Hale, it was nothing new to him. But right at that moment he was utterly terrified.

He wanted to run away, far away, where he wouldn't have to face anyone ever again. He wanted to at least tear his eyes from the ones of a man standing before him. But even that he couldn't get. Those mesmerizing eyes, dark blue in the dim lighting of a school swimming pool, were staring right back at him and any moment now the shock and incomprehension in them were about to turn into anger. And then, then Stiles would actually have to run.

"Derek," he rasped out, voice low and hoarse. Reasoning seemed like his better option, because there was no way that Stiles could outrun a werewolf.

His name, spoken up with fear and worry and maybe a little heartbreak, snapped Derek back from his thoughts. "What the hell?" He asked quietly. No sign of anger yet. "Stiles?!" And there it was.

Stiles flinched. "Please, don't kill me!" He shouted out of desperation.

"I'm not going to…" Derek heaved an irritated sigh. "What the hell had just happened? Was this some kind of a sick joke?"

He sounded hurt, and that more than anything else prompted Stiles to stutter. "N-no! It…It wasn't on purpose! I swear."

"Great." Derek was no stranger to sarcasm as well, only in his case it was a means of defense, not attack. "Now if you'd just explain what 'it' was, I'd be very grateful."

So, this conversation already was going much better than Stiles had expected; the mere fact they were having a conversation was more than he had hoped for.

"I was cursed."

Derek crossed his hands over his broad chest and nodded. He didn't look convinced but he wasn't shifting and tearing Stiles's throat out with his teeth either, so it must have been a good sign.

"Pissed off a fortune teller at the fair. How was I to know she was actually a witch? So, anyway…after that, next morning I wake up and here I was. A girl. Thought at first I was still dreaming, turned out – no. Actually a girl." He broke off before he could start babbling.

"Just like that?" Derek asked skeptically.

"You know I'm not lying." Stiles retorted seriously.

Derek nodded tersely. "Continue."

"I didn't know what to do at first. Scott wouldn't stop laughing and Allison and Lydia decided to make me their personal project. Dress up, comb my hair, put on some make up…It's wasn't bad just…weird."

"Have you tried finding that witch?"

"Of course I did. Contrary to what you think I'm not an idiot. It was the first thing I've done."

"And?" Derek prompted as Stiles grew silent.

"She said there was nothing she could do now that the curse was at work. She actually mentioned that she was a seer and that I shouldn't worry. Everything will turn up fine, that bitch promised. Yeah, fine my ass."

"But you did find a cure?"

Stiles was silent for a moment. "I didn't mean to drag you into this. Really." He averted his eyes, hoping that the sight of still clear water would calm him down and give him strength to continue. "You were so persistent and I was trying to push you away but you…you just wouldn't go."

There was no reply to that and Stiles was too scared to look at Derek.

"I…I have liked you for a long time." And there it was. The one thing this all came down to. "Like, really liked. A lot." Very eloquent, Stiles, he told himself. Self-mocking was one of his ways of coping.

"So you decided deceiving me was a good way to earn my attention?" Derek asked angrily.

"Oh get off your high horse, you asshole!" Stiles glared at him fiercely. "Just moments ago you were telling me how much you like me, but what had attracted your attention to _that girl_ in the first place? Her pretty face? Her slim waist? Her breasts? Or maybe a nice round backside? Don't be a hypocrite." As the anger left him Stiles realized that no matter what Derek did, Stiles himself was at fault here. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"No, you are right." Derek interrupted. And even though he was admitting his mistakes, it sounded more like an accusation to Stiles. "My first attraction to you was purely physical. And I admit, I wasn't planning on building a long term relationship when I noticed her – you – in the mall."

"Well…"

"But after I got to know you…I liked you." Derek admitted, sounding dejected.

"So you are not angry?" Stiles asked timidly.

"I am confused." Derek confessed, but his glare made it hard to believe in his complete honesty. "But I grew up in a world of supernatural, so it is not as hard for me to accept this as it could have been for any other person."

"Okay," Stiles nodded in acknowledgement. "So…I'll probably go. Let you figure out your feelings and all that."

"But," Derek's raised voice made him halt in his tracks.

Stiles half-turned, catching his eyes and felt dread settle over him from a detached coldness of Derek's expression. Derek wasn't lying when he said that he wasn't angry, Stiles could see that now; but it also made him wish that Derek was. Violent reaction was preferable to what was happening at that moment; Stiles would rather take his chances running from a rabid werewolf than trying to patch things up with Derek after this. He didn't look angry, not at all, but he looked like mere sight of Stiles made him sick.

"I do understand your…predicament, but I still don't appreciate being lied to."

Stiles could only nod mutely. All this could have been avoided had he told Derek straightforwardly what had happened to him, but then…then Stiles wouldn't have his chance to know what it could be like, dating Derek Hale. He was still trying to figure out if it had been worth it. But on that he could ponder later, Derek was not done with his cold words.

"So I ask you to stay away from me."

Stiles nodded again, a question 'For how long?' buried so deep inside, it wouldn't be allowed to see the light of day. Derek didn't need to know the exact level of how pathetic Stiles's crush on him was. A rejection so cold hurt, but that was expected. Stiles knew this was coming; which didn't mean he was ready for the pain it caused.

"I'll just go then." He muttered quietly, his voice resonating weakly from empty walls.

Derek nodded, but his brows creased into an uncertain frown. Stiles wasn't staying to wait until Derek would ask another important question there. He fled until he'd had to explain what had broken the curse.

* * *

Stiles had a weekend to himself to untangle his feelings and decide on how he was going to proceed with the situation as the next week would start. He also got some quality time with his dad, watching a baseball game and establishing his manliness all over again. He knew there was no need for that, but after a week like the one he had it just felt good to bask in all the activities that were considered manly by society. After that Stiles sorted out the clothes that helped him get through the last week, pretty dresses and skirts and blouses and shoes and got rid of them. Mostly.

Feeling accomplished, Stiles phoned Scott, demanding that his best friend come over and play video games with him until they both fall over from exhaustion. All in all it was a good weekend. Normal.

And if Stiles subtly avoided all the questions about the curse, well he wasn't in the mood to discuss that topic. And if he was unsubtle about it at all, it just proved how awesome his family and friends were, taking mercy on him and not mentioning it even once.

* * *

By the time Monday came everything was back to normal. Danny had once commented on Stiles's absence the last week and Harris was practically gloating, but otherwise no one seemed bothered by it. Classes went as usual, Scott was back at his side all the time and Lydia had switched back to 'Not interested in your personal life'. Allison had made an attempt to talk about his feelings but gave up, there were so many times Stiles could cut her off with an irritated "I'm fine" before she got annoyed at him in return.

Stiles hadn't seen Derek all day, which might had been a good avoidance tactic from his side or from Derek's. Stiles tried not to dwell on it too much.

"So, Scotty," Stiles called boisterously, slinging one arm around his best friend's neck. "Video games at my house tonight? My dad's got a late shift, we can do all the freaky stuff you like."

"Stiles," Scott groaned, exasperated. "Why do you have to say things like that?"

"Because I love embarrassing you in public? Come on, what else are friends for?"

And that was a moment when a strong hand grabbed him by the back of his neck and hauled him away from Scott.

"What?" Stiles tried to twist around to catch a look at his attacker but a low growl was enough of a clue. Stiles paled.

"Derek? What the hell?" Scott growled in return, but before he could grab his best friend to start a ridiculous game of tug Stiles warned him off.

"No! It's okay. We just need to talk." He shouted while being dragged backwards to an unknown location. Stiles just hoped Derek was sane enough not to kill him on the school grounds. Seriously that would be messy. He tried voicing his thought but Derek only grumbled. "I'm not going to kill you, Stiles." Which did not sound convincing at all.

"Derek, wait, Derek!" Stiles flailed helplessly as he was unceremoniously dragged around the corner, Scott's worried face fading from view like his last hope at being saved, and thrown into an empty classroom. "That is so uncivilized." He commented when Derek let go of him. Busy righting his shirt he missed Derek rolling his eyes, but he certainly heard a muttered "Idiot."

"If you wanted to talk to me, there was no need to be so hostile."

"With you running in the opposite direction at the mere hint that I might be close by."

"I'm not…that's not," he protested weakly, fully realizing how futile it was. "You asked me to stay away."

Derek ran a hand over his face tiredly as he snapped. "Not forever, you idiot." Realizing that he was misplacing his anger, Derek took a deep breath to calm down and explained. "I needed some time. To think. I didn't mean that I wanted you hiding whenever you catch a sight of me."

"Well, you should have-"

"Just shut up." Derek threw carelessly, crowding Stiles against a wall menacingly. "Tell me what broke the curse."

"You just told me to shut up like a moment before."

"And now I'm telling you to talk."

"You are contradicting yourself, Derek."

"No, I'm not. Stop with this nonsense and just tell me. What. Broke. The. Curse."

"How do you know that what I'm about to say isn't another nonsense. Seriously, man, you never take my words seriously."

"I'm about to now. So, tell me."

"This is ridiculous. I'd don't have to tell you anything. This is a private matter."

"No it's not."

"It is!"

"Not, it's not!"

"It so is!"

Derek opened his mouth to shout another childish retort but caught himself in time. "Stiles," he growled threateningly grabbing the front of Stiles's shirt. "Tell me."

"Why are you so stubborn? What's in it for you?" Stiles gripped at his last straw with both hands.

"Why are _you _being so difficult. Just. Tell. Me."

"Fine!" Stiles shouted back, angry and hurt and a little confused.

They both grew silent after that, breathing heavily into the small space left between them. Stiles was glaring up at Derek, resolute not to let the turmoil of thoughts rushing through his head show on his face. "Why are you making me do this?" He asked.

"Because I want to know," came a simple answer. Derek didn't look angry anymore.

"But you already do." Stiles pleaded with his eyes. _Don't make me say it_.

"I need you to say it."

"Why?"

"I want to be sure."

"In what?" There was desperation breaking through to the surface.

"Just tell me." Derek's voice was low and soft, eyes taking in all of Stiles's face, roaming over his features, and settling on his eyes.

Stiles pursed his lips, defiant not to let go of his stubbornness, but then heaved a long sigh; there was no use in stalling. Maintaining eye contact, he said confidently. "The kiss."

When there was no reaction from Derek he continued. "You know, Disney style. True love's kiss stronger than any dark magic and on all that…"

"True love?" The bastard was amused. Here Stiles was, putting his heart on the line and the guy he practically confessed to right now was smirking at him. Stiles could have punched him at that moment had he not needed to defend his case.

"Last time I checked, we were not actually in a fairy tale. If anything, my life had turned into a horror movie since Scott got bitten. Or maybe a dark comedy, I'm not sure yet. Yes, you know, now that I think about it. A dark comedy. Certainly."

"Stiles," Derek called his name to get Stiles' mind back on track.

"Deaton said that in real life someone I feel strongly about should suffice."

"So, you feel strongly about me?"

"Yes," there was so much irritation in his voice, it covered all the insecurities. "I hate you so strongly I feel like strangling you with your guts."

For a moment Derek's face twisted into a grimace. "I could have lived without that mental image. But back to the topic, I believe Deaton didn't mean hatred when he was giving you his advice."

"Derek," Stiles whispered tiredly, throwing his head back until it hit the wall. "What do you want me to say? That I like you? Yes, I do. Very much. I've been crushing on you for years, even before I appeared on your radar as 'That annoying friend of a newly turned idiot werewolf Scott McCall'. I already told you all that, by the pool."

Stiles heard Derek hum softly, but had no idea what that meant. He might have been pleased, might have been irritated. He might have been bordering on murderous right that second. Hell, he might have been just hungry.

"And after I got to know you better…after we got to spend some time together…I'm not saying I love you, but I'm well on my way there." With his last words Stiles moved to look directly at Derek, wanting to see the impact of the confession.

Derek nodded curtly once. "Good." Was all he said. And then, after a pause that lasted too long, "Me too."

"What?" Stiles gaped, waiting for a punch line of a cruel joke. Or maybe just a punch. But neither came, Derek was staring back at him, sincere and confident in his knowledge that what he was doing was right.

"I said, I like you too. A lot."

"That's ridiculous!" Stiles snapped his mouth shut but it was already too late; another idiocy had already fallen from his lips. "You should hate me. For deception."

"Was it intentional deception?"

"Of course not, I've already explained it to you twice."

"Then why would I be mad at you?" The question was so reasonable, Stiles found himself lost for words. "It took some time and a ridiculous curse for me to notice you, and I'm sorry about that. But I did enjoy our time together." Derek confessed earnestly. "I like you."

Stiles was looking up at him, eyes locked with Derek's beautiful blue ones, dazed. His mind was a blur, his heart was mid-leap from his chest and his fuzzy brain realized that he should probably say something in reply. But what little intelligence he had left formed into a dreamy whisper. "This is all so messed up."

It probably wasn't such a stupid thing to say because Derek laughed. "Totally crazy."

"You love it."

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

And they leaned closer for a kiss, their lips stretched into similar smiles. Tentative and gentle it quickly picked up heat and intensity. Stiles grabbed Derek, dragging him closer, so he was bracketed by the werewolf's strong body. Muscled hands slid around him, as Derek's tongue licked his lips, asking for more, deepening the kiss. Stiles moaned and gripped him tighter around the shoulders.

Their chests pressed together; their flat chests, Stiles noted absent-mindedly and infinitely too pleased, and it felt better than the kiss by the pool because this was purely them. Eager for more, now when he was finally allowed to take what he wanted, Stile plastered himself to Derek's front from head to toe, pressing their groins together. Stiles was already half hard and he rutted against Derek shamelessly, uncontained moans falling from his lips.

"You are very excited." Derek commented smugly.

"Just…" Stiles panted between their lips. "Very happy to be a guy again. Seriously. Having a dick is amazing."

Derek laughed soundlessly, warm puffs of air hitting Stiles's already heated skin.

"Yeah? And how does this feel?" And with that words Derek palmed Stiles through his jeans.

"Brilliant," Stiles gasped.

Derek kissed him again, swallowing every moan and feeding Stiles his own. It was obscene; two teenagers humping each other in a classroom during lunch break. It crossed Stiles's mind once that this was not the best idea they had, with a threat of being discovered and all, but then Derek sucked on his tongue and growled low in his throat, and every serious thought flew from his mind.

Stiles cursed, curling his fingers in Derek's hair as kisses were placed down his throat. "I better not wake up in my bed with an aching hard on and realize that this is just a dream."

"It's not," Derek replied distractedly while his tongue lavished the skin of Stiles's throat.

"The problem here is…that if it was my dream this would be the exact same thing you'd say."

"You talk too much."

"But you like it."

"Maybe," Derek chuckled. "But I think we can put that pretty mouth of yours to a better use later."

"Oh that sounds-"

"Guys!" A shout came from the hallway, Scott's panicked voice so high it was almost a squeak. "Guys, stop it!"

"What the hell?" Stiles shouted back a little breathlessly because Derek seemed absolutely unconcerned by the distraction. "Scott?"

"Not saying other guy's name while I'm kissing you." Derek commented and bit on Stiles's neck lightly.

"Seriously, Derek, Stiles," Scott shouted from the outside. His voice lowered to an angry whisper that was barely heard. "There is a bunch of werewolves standing by the door. We can hear everything!"

"What? Why?" Still a little dazed Stiles pushed Derek away because he needed to concentrate. "What are you doing there?"

"I was worried about you!" Scott shouted through the door. He didn't dare enter for the fear of being traumatized by what he might see. "I called everyone to help. You know, in case Derek was killing you there."

Derek didn't even deign that with an answer. "Get out!" Technically Scott wasn't even 'in' the classroom but he understood the sentiment all the same.

"It's a school, guys! You can't…Seriously, just…Next class will start soon."

"Not good enough," Derek replied, but he was addressing Stiles not Scott.

Stiles grinned at him and nodded. "How about we skip the rest of the day?" He suggested, running his fingers down Derek's lovely muscled chest. "I think I need to get reacquainted with this body." He waved at himself and sent Derek a suggestive wink.

"You look ridiculous, don't ever make a face like that."

"What? It's my seducing face!"

"I don't know what that face was, but it surely wasn't seducing."

"Oh, come on. At least a little. Tiny little bit?"

"You are ridiculous. And crazy." There was so much affection in Derek's voice, Stiles cheeks started to hurt from all the smiling. "But you do have some good ideas sometimes."

Stiles kissed him again, a small almost shy peck on the lips, before taking Derek's hand and leading him out of the room, past a bunch of werewolves in different states of shock, out and away to explore their newly formed relationship.

* * *

**A/N:** This is my first Sterek, please let me know what you think:)


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